The Weight I Freely Carry

This is loosely what became of the Stream of Consciousness exercise I did a few weeks ago. I originally wrote this immediately after, but decided to edit it and approach the subject more positively.

My thighs are fat as sows
Fat and white spreading over the toilet seat.
In between them is the red blood
swirling,
almost like ribbons,
and the little clots that sink.

When I see this redness, I see my child-
hood.
Little girl in her friend’s bathroom after
a rush down there, a yell—
No more girl.
She is gone, replenished

with one who
loves her period,
will love the nine month absence of this gift
for a greater one,
will cry
when it is gone.

Sometimes I dip down
and smell the fresh blood
caught in my pad
and I think
This is me, This
is
life!
Proof of what my body can do!
No man can carry this weight.
No man can feed a child from the inside.

Thank you for your comment! I understand–many women feel very differently from me and still unsure about their bodies, and that’s okay. But Fida, you are beautiful, and what you do is natural. Love, Chloe.